Collision
by overcast
Summary: The collision had involved Finland's head and Denmark's chest, and substantial amounts of tears. Denmark/Finland.


_Oh, you know you know you know that  
yes I love I mean I'd  
love to get to know you.._

------------

"Shoot! A stop-sign!"

Finland slammed his foot on the brakes.  
"A stop...sign." he slowly recited to himself, reflecting more on his current situation than street-signs.  
Finland paid attention to every stop-sign that came his way, of course, no matter how late at night it was or how  
much he felt like jumping out of his own skin and fading away.

If only he could do the same to the other kind of stop-signs, the ones that weren't red or octagons but rather  
tall blonde and bespectacled. They both had his best interests at heart, he knew, but sometimes all he wanted  
was a nice conversation, and he found that the tall and blonde one only performed marginally better than the octagon  
on that front, which, he supposed, said something.

Maybe the octagons knew how to _propose marriage_ better, as well.

It had been such a disaster. The fact that Sweden had asked him in the first place was distressing enough,  
but he had just asked. Any illusions the Finn had that Berwald would actually make an effort to be romantic,  
for once in his long life, were crushed by one monotone question.

So that was his current situation, in the middle of a 8-hour drive from Stockholm to Copenhagen, because  
his live-in boyfriend proposed and because he didn't pay attention to stop-signs.

Finland stared straight ahead, and made himself stay together.

-------------

"Ahhh, screw this."  
Denmark threw the remote by the now shut-off television, and crossed his feet resting on the ottoman in front of him.  
The movie wouldn't be helping him fall asleep any time soon, especially since the lead bore a striking resemblance to...  
Prussia.  
Denmark shuddered, then sighed, running a hand through his perpetually untamed hair.  
'Okay...sleep....sleep....'  
He looked over to the liquor cabinet.  
No, he had too many things to do tomorrow.  
'Wait, what? When did I get so fuckin' responsible?' Denmark shifted in his seat.  
'It's because of him, isn't it? I'm trying to make myself into a nice, stable guy for him, aren't I? It's all  
because of those brown eyes and blonde hair and that nice and tight uniform...seriously, who wears uniforms  
that color?'

Denmark was interrupted from his reverie by a soft knock at the door.  
'Ohoho', he thought, ' It's 3am, and I get a knock at the door..'  
Remembering who it had been the last time this had happened, Denmark turned to get his axe.  
He then thought better of it, ('there's that responsibility again'), and moved to merely look out to see  
who could possibly want him at this hour.

He blanched.  
No, he would not be needing his axe.

-------------

The door flung open.  
Well well, another sign.  
Not a stop-sign this time, but rather a warning-sign. Like the kind that warn  
you of falling rocks (_or standards.._) or of storm-surges...

Finland thought he might have liked a nice storm-surge at the moment.

No, it looked like the way was clear.  
Finland took a deep breath, and stepped on it.

-------------

The collision had involved Finland's head and Denmark's chest, and substantial amounts of tears.

Since Denmark was Denmark, he promptly slung an arm around the smaller man and lead him to  
his couch, then went and sought out a cup of water and a blanket. He had never had to deal with  
the love of his life crying on his doorstep before, but he figured the Finn was beyond caring anyway.

After the petit man had gone from sobs to sniffles, Denmark figured he may as well ask the wreck of a man  
just why he decided to take a late-night road trip to his home in the first place.

"He...proposed!" Finland spat out.  
Denmark blanched once again.  
"He wh-" he began, but was cut off by Finland, who, Denmark supposed, had thrown out the idea of being  
polite when he showed up at the Dane's house at 3am.

"I can't do this Erik, I can't do this, it was bad enough when we just together, but now I feel like he's about  
to throw me in a cage and eat the key, I'm s-scared and I don't like it!"  
Denmark moved closer to the other man.  
"Hey now, you don't have to have to be afraid of anything when I'm here, and besides...there are other options.."  
he finished quietly, staring into Finland's brown eyes.

He was coming closer.

Now _there_, finally, was a sign Finland could pay attention to.

"Friends!" Finland barked.  
Denmark recoiled, as if the word had jumped straight from Finland's mouth and slapped him in the face.  
"What?"  
"Friends....yeah, friends.." Finland continued, absentmindedly patting Denmark's chest."It'd be nice to get  
to know you..I mean, even after all these years, we don't exactly know each other the best, do we?" he smiled up at  
the larger man.

"Ya know me enough to be afraid of fallin' in love with me."  
Finland flinched at Denmark's blunt words and looked down.  
"And _you_ know _me_ well enough to know why."

Denmark sighed and began to think they both weren't in the right state of mind to be  
having a conversation like this now, or ever.

"This proposition of friendship...it could be risky ya know.."  
Finland closed his eyes. "Oh, I know."

Denmark stood up. "Well, it's almost five." he announced to the nearly empty house, before bending down and picking  
Finland up off the couch. "Can friends carry friends to their room?"  
Finland smiled sweetly.

"Friends can most certainly carry their friends to the _guest_room."

Denmark snorted and began to make his way out of the room.  
Next time, he was bringing the axe.

**  
A/N: Not exactly a conclusion.. but interaction, no? I wish a better writer would take up the DenFin torch, hahah.  
Thanks for reading!**


End file.
